#when all that was done is have several of my works open in tabs and word things worse than the way i word my works

[ujunxverse]

looking back on approx one year since i got plagiarized by ckvsen but a huge part of it that irks me to this day is how hard it is to give credit like girlie ripped off a line from my other fics and read my entire masterlist and still refused to apologize. not saying she doesn’t deserve to write again but responding to evidence with “sorry but you’re making me doubt my skills” and “i admit it’s one line but i didn’t know how to write it better” to stealing a literal intro to a work is laughable at best and pity-invoking at worst like how desperate do you have to be to not even come up with your own plot to blow up that’s insane

[drak3n]

ELECTRICIAN!TOJI

CONTENT WARNINGS: fwb to lovers trope, fluff, smut, he fucks you in your kitchen, single dad!toji, he’s a little possessive, reader is implied to be a bit younger than him (5+years)

sena’s note: i was going to write mechanic!toji first but changed my mind after seeing too much of that on tumblr. tattoo artist/piercer!choso is up next!

MINI-SERIES MASTERLIST

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who was going to enjoy a saturday home with his preschooler, having told his employer specifically that he wasn’t going to take any jobs today

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who ended up getting an onslaught of calls by said employer anyway and nearly slammed his fist into his phone screen if it wasn’t for megumi sitting next to him and watching a cartoon on the tv

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who grimly pulled up to your house in his car with megumi sitting in the back, carrying a toolbox in one hand and holding megumi’s hand with the other

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI whose scowl faltered at the sight of you opening the door, looking nervous yet thankful at the same time; who couldn’t deny that your little smile tugged at his heartstrings

“i’m so sorry, sir. i wouldn’t have insisted for your employer to send someone if i had known—”

this was the fifth time in a row you’d apologized to the man while he was busy checking your outlets and wirings. he had immediately noted that the outlets you were using were burning hot, his nose picking up on a faint burning smell you were somehow oblivious of.

megumi was seated on your couch, kicking his chubby legs as he chewed on a chocolate bar you had handed him after his daddy agreed.

“it’s good that you insisted, ma’am. check this out,” his gruff voice cut you off as he beckoned you over with his finger to check behind a loose outlet in your bedroom. you gasped as you bent over, just to see a cable inside the outlet that was severely melted and had darkened in color. “that… i never plugged anything in that lately. how did that happen?”

toji set his toolbox down on the floor next to the outlet, shaking his head at how the outlets were wired in this apartment. whoever was here last, or at all, had done a shitty ass job, that was for sure. “when’s the last time you had an electrician over?”

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who gaped when you told him you never hired an electrician ever since you had moved into this place, which was a little over two years ago

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who felt bad about the state your place was in and how clueless you were, and did something he never thought he’d do — pausing when he spotted your leaking tab in the kitchen, and fixing it as well without expecting anything in exchange, earning himself a million words of gratitude

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who noticed how sweet you were to megumi, offering him snacks and talking to him about school and his friends, and who soon found out that you worked with children

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who left your place the same evening after having denied a hefty tip — something he had never done once in his life — and having gotten invited to come over for dinner next saturday along with his little boy to repay him with a homemade, nice meal =)

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who found himself coming over more often, with or without megumi, and whenever it was the latter, it ended with him being balls-deep inside of you at some point

“t—toji, r—right there! fuck, so good!”

the older, bulky man took it as a sign to dive his hips harder into your tiny body as he bent you over the kitchen counter. he could tell you had never really been satisfied by a man before. it was no wonder; men your age just couldn’t do it the way an experienced and older man like him could.

the harsh fabric of his work pants rubbed against your bare ass with every thrust, and you mewled and squealed as his thick cock hit that one spot inside of you repeatedly.

“mhm? say what, princess?” his veiny, calloused, huge hands were on either side of your head and your hole tightened embarrassingly at that. toji was a sexy man, and he fucking knew it. guys your age could never compare to who was rearranging your guts right now.

“never… never had a dick as—good as yours!” you were sobbing at this point, delirious from the pleasure he was giving you. “n—no one ever fucked me this— shit! ‘m cumming!”

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who explicitly told you he wasn’t the type to commit, that he was the type to hook up and move on; and who was first delighted that you didn’t seem to mind fucking with no strings attached either

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who soon grew displeased when he came over one day to see a shirt that was not his (it was obviously too small for his muscular built) in your room

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who never fucked you any rougher than he did on that day, and who didn’t even look into your face once

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who stopped visiting you in hopes of forgetting you, knowing it was just him thinking with his dick whenever you crossed his mind, who denied having actually grown fond of a woman’s entire being and not just her pussy

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who begrudgingly came to the realization that he couldn’t look at other women the same anymore after he met you; who would always lower his gaze when other female clients who were obviously attracted to him tried to show off their bodies or charm him, which left him cold and unaffected

➩ ELECTRICIAN!TOJI who ditched his useless pride for once and showed up in front of your door one noon to take you out properly, and not spend time in your shitty and malfunctioning apartment

[am-i-interrupting]

Affection | Vox x Fem!Reader

Summary: Vox and Valentino get into it. Vox looks for a way to get payback and stumbles upon you. He didn’t expect you to actually care.

Warnings: sex work, a bit of a mommy kink

He was used to the petty yelling, the constant spats, even the object throwing. What crossed the line was when he had to replace his screen.

Vox and Valentino got into a lot of arguments, normally started by the latter instead of the former. This one was bad though. Vox didn’t even want to think about it but it was all that was on his mind.

He was angry.

He was angry because it was easier to be angry rather than something else, something more vulnerable. He didn’t want to and couldn’t afford to be vulnerable right now. He had to hold onto this anger so he didn’t go crawling back to Valentino.

Currently, he was at his desk, looking through documents about ads that were just waiting for Vox’s stamp of approval. He stumbled upon yours and he paused.

He recognized you. Why?

He copied your name into a search bar and looked at your Sinstagram profile. Flipping through the pictures, he found one of you at a bar and that’s when he remembered.

Valentino tried to contract you and you’d basically laughed at him. You’d tossed back a shot and then turned to Valentino, asking if he needed you to pay for it since he was clearly so desperate for new recruits as he was only preying on people too stupidly drunk to realize how bad of an idea it was to say yes. Oh, he remembered Valentino seething that night.

He approved your ad but he couldn’t get you out of his head. He opened the closed tag again as he actually read through your ad.

You were advertising music. Which, when say side by side with your Sinstagram made sense as he saw a picture of you with Verosika Mayday. There wasn’t really anything interesting on the advert.

He scrolled up to the top of your Sinstagram in order to look at them in order from most to least relevant. That is when he caught sight of a link in your bio. He clicked it.

He was brought to a website. He wasn’t sure what he expected but he did raise an eyebrow nonetheless. It was an escort sight. A home page that had you and several other people scantily dressed with a description of what every person and the services you offered.

Maybe he was being more vindictive than he thought because he immediately clicked on the tab that sent him to your page and booked a time with you.

It was far out, months away in fact. He honestly had forgotten about it until he got an email the week before asking if he was still available and inviting him to a pre-session consultation. Not willing to back out and have it potentially mess with his image, he made the time.

He logged into a video call several days later and was greeted with you in the middle of putting on your makeup.

“Well, hello, Mr. Vox,” you said with a soft purr. He replied with a formal greeting of your name. “You’re a busy guy and I’m a busy gal so I’ll keep this quick. This is just a little meeting for boundaries. I know it bothers some people to make them in person so I’ve found this to be an easier way.

“I’ll go first. No hickies, no bruises, no scratches, no cuts, no burns, just no marks. It might be pretty and fun in the moment but it costs me later. Not everyone enjoys having sex with someone who’s clearly had it with someone else not long before. It may be part of my work but people do like an illusion.

“I don’t do bondage where I’m the one tied up. It’s nothing personal, just a safety issue. On the topic of safety, if you bring in anything that could be used as a weapon. I’m done and you’re leaving. All I need from you is that pretty little body of yours and payment. I’ll provide the rest.

“On the topic of payment, I know you’ve already made your upfront payments for this little consultation. The rest can be brought when you come in cash. Any questions so far?”

He surprised himself by saying, “Not so far, no.”

You we’re far more thorough than he thought. He’d bought time before but it was never this professionally done, even by Valentino’s standards. Granted, with Valentino’s sex workers, there was really only one rule, payment upfront. He didn’t give a fuck about anything else.

You though? You had clearly given this a lot of thought on all parts.

“Good, I’m glad,” you said. “Those are my hard rules. Everything else is a little more flexible. So, tell me, what is it you want from tonight?”

“To have a good time.”

“Of course, we all want to have a good time, Vox, but I’m talking specifics. Don’t be naive,” you said. “I have full confidence you know better. Maybe it’d be easier if I told you what I’m best at.”

The lid of your lipstick clicked closed. You looked at the camera, looking at him directly on his screen by proxy, for the first time.

“I can do just about anything your cold, dead heart desires but I enjoy specific things more than others. I’m a bit of a dominatrix, I’d you will. I enjoy the power and control of giving people what they need instead of what they want. How does that sound to you?”

“It sounds to me like a very overlord thing to do,” he replied.

“Not there yet,” you said. “So, is that the role you prefer to play?”

“It’s one I play often.”

“Yes, I’ve gathered that but do you prefer it?”

Vox didn’t know why he didn’t just say yes. He should have. It went with his image to say yes and that’s why he was still agreeing to do this even though he and Valentino weren’t on the worst of terms right now.

He hadn’t crawled back to Valentino yet. It’d been one of their longer spells away from one another. Five months without even falling back into bed once.

Perhaps that’s why he said what he said. He was pent up. He hadn’t had time to unwind and the person he normally would go to for that he was still upset with. That’s the reason he’d go with anyway.

“It’s the role I play most often,” he said.

“But is it the role you like?” you asked. When he didn’t answer you smiled, a more genuine one than any flirty or sarcastic one you’d shot his way before. “Stubborn, I’ll keep that noted.”

“I am not—“

“You’re proving my point. Now,” you stood up and rummaged through a drawer he couldn’t see, “pick a set for me.”

For the next several hours, Vox felt like he couldn’t focus. He was nervous. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been nervous over a one night stand.

He left early, leaving his assistant with double the workload but he didn’t care. He just needed to be out of the building.

He took Vark out on a walk to pass time but it still went by so slowly. It took what felt like days for it to finally be time to leave.

He’d call it considerate that he left without his usual suit jacket, waistcoat, and tie but in reality, he felt so hot, constricted with them on.

He traveled through the cameras and arrived at the address he’d been given, not a single person having seen him.

He knocked on the door and that sense of security was promptly shattered when it opened and he heard someone say, “Holy shit!” in response to seeing him.

He glared at the offending person as he stepped in. He recognized them from being pictured on your website. They quickly spun around and continued doing whatever it was they were in the process of.

He was led to a room which when opened revealed you inside. You were wearing a shear robe that gave him a peak at what was hiding underneath.

“I was promised secrecy,” he said. “Not to be gawked at by the employees.”

“So you don’t want to be gawked at me?” you asked. You smiled at your own joke. “Everyone here is under contracted lock and key to not say a single word about what goes on inside these walls. You’re image will be fine.”

“Contracted?”

“You said I had the makings of an overlord,” you replied. “Why are you suddenly surprised that I have contracts? Don’t worry, I assure you they’re much more ethically sourced than your co-worker’s.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Speaking of,” you said as you took several steps towards him, “why are you here? I’d imagine you could have any of Valentino’s contracted cash free. Why waste it on me? I’m not exactly cheap.”

You held out your hand and he reached into a pocket to retrieve the other part of your payment. You swiftly began counting it.

“You fuck one of Valentino’s pets, you’ve fucked them all,” he said. “They’re all too scared to be any fun after a while.”

“As much as I know that’s a true statement—“ you put the cash in a drawer of the bedside table— “I don’t believe it.”

He felt his eye twitch. “And what exactly would you—“

“Why don’t you take off your shirt and lay on the bed?” You walked towards him and ran your hands up his torso. “Or I could take it off for you.”

You began unbuttoning his shirt and for some reason, it made him drop all his irritation. When you finished, you bent down and licked all the way up his torso. You kissed and nipped at his collar bone.

His hands went to your sides but you spatted them away. The shirt fell to the ground.

You looked up at him, like you were daring him to kiss you. However, when he went to do just that, you stepped away.

“On the bed face down, mister,” you told him.

He huffed. Despite his mind telling him to grab you and pull you in for a kiss, take you and remind you of who exactly you were messing with, his body followed your instructions.

The mattress dipped as you straddled him. Something popped open (he tensed), a bottle clinked as it was set on the table, and then the sound of you rubbing your hands together went through the air.

Your hands, warm against his skin and slick with oil, began to rub up and down his back.

“Why are you here, Vox?” you asked. “I’m not stupid. I keep up with the news. Did you think I wouldn’t notice that the day you made an appointment was the same day you updated your status to single again? It’s still single now so what happened?”

“Nothing happened,” he said.

“Uh-huh, and the fact that you visibly tensed as soon as I mentioned Valentino is just a coincidence,” you said. “Everything you say in these walls stays within them.”

“You’re the one who made the contracts,” he said. “You’re not under them.”

“True, but—“

You began to apply pressure with your thumb, grinding your thumb and hand in circles along his back.

“Oh, fuck.”

“—I also made them,” you said, basically repeating his words. “It means I place value in confidentiality.”

“Or covering you’re own— oh, fuck, right there— your own ass.”

“I could be.”

You leaned down and he felt toy trap his entire torso beneath you. He liked the feeling. He liked the feeling of you over him.

You got close to his face, “But I think we both know I’m not.” You moved back and he mourned the feeling as soon as it was gone. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. You’re just very obviously tense and not just physically.”

You punctuated your sentence by rolling the palm of your hand at the base of his neck before squeezing it lightly. He couldn’t hold back a moan at the feeling of some tension leaving his body.

You continued on like that in silence for a while. You were working out the knots in his muscles and he was basically putty beneath your hands.

He’d never been treated like this before. He had couldn’t remember the last time he felt loose. There was always some kind of feeling of unease he constantly carried.

He didn’t even know he needed this because he’d never known that he could have it.

You leaned to once again lay over him but this time he could feel the entire weight of your body instead of just your warmth. You wrapped your arms underneath his shoulders and placed a kiss to his neck.

“Are you alright to continue?” you asked him as you nuzzled against his shoulder blade.

“I—“ He tried to search for some witty or snarky remark to make but all he could come up with was, “Yes.”

You cooed at him and slipped your hands out from underneath him to rub his back as you got off him. “Using your words, what a good boy,” you said and he hated, hated how that made him feel so warm inside. “Can you turn around for me? Yes, good.”

He closed his eyes and refused to look at you. You laughed but it didn’t feel mean. That didn’t make him feel any less embarrassed, however.

You did a wider, full handed version of the back massage you’d given him to his front as you began to roll your hips against his. He couldn’t hold back a whine.

“Oh, so pretty,” you said. “Such pretty noises from such a pretty boy.”

“Fuck,” it came out weak and pathetic.

Well, it was fitting then because that’s how he felt, weak and pathetic. Such simply praise shouldn’t be so effective.

“How does that feel?” you asked. “Come on, be a good boy. Tell me. Tell me how to make you feel good, baby.”

You were kissing on his neck and shoulders now.

“Good,” he choked out.

You hummed against his skin.

He could feel his fingers flex. His arms moved. He stopped them. He wanted to touch. He should be able to touch. He should be able to do what he wanted. He was the fucking Vox, overlord and creator of the biggest tech company in Hell. He shouldn’t need permission to do something.

You grabbed his hands and brought them up to the knot of your robe.

“You can touch me, baby,” you told him.

A whine forced its way out of his throat no matter how much he tried to keep it at bay.

He opened his eyes and you were so beautiful, grinding against him like you were made to. He could feel his cock straining against his pants. He wanted them off.

He settled for untying your robe. It fell to reveal the deep blue set he’d chosen for you earlier that day. It was sheer enough to show off your nipples through the cross crossed pattern of the bra. There was a silver chain that draped between the cups and further framed your breasts. Some traps went around your torso as part of the garter belt which held up your similarly colored stockings. You looked gorgeous.

You laughed and guided his hands up to your waist. Then up to your tits.

“I love the way you keeping whining for me,” you said. “You’re like a little pup.” Your eyes honed on his neck and your hand followed your gaze. You pressed on his neck, just enough to add some pressure. “That neck of yours looks like it was made to be collared and leashed.”

“Oh fuck.”

You leaned closer to his face. “Would you like that, baby?”

His fingers twitched around your breasts. He rubbed his thumbs over your clothes nipples as a silent apology. “Please.”

“Oh, such good manners.” You applied more pressure to his neck, not enough to cut off his air supply. He arched into your touch. “But not tonight. Some other time, I promise. I’ve got a feeling I’ll be seeing you plenty, baby.”

You went to nip at his neck. His hands wrapped around to your back to hold you in place. Your own traveled down his torso and to his belt.

You undid it. You pulled down his pants but not his underwear. You slipped from his grasp.

You put your hands on either side of his bulge and ran your fingers over it. His legs spread open further as he tried to push up but you quickly put an end to that little action.

Your hands on his hips, you hovered your head over him. You licked a stripe onto the fabric. You began to suck him off with the barrier of his boxers.

He knew he was whining. His eyes wanted to screw shut but he kept them open, too transfixed by the visage before him.

Your own eyes were closed. Your hands, perfectly constraining his boxers, were wrapped around his hips. The tips of your perfectly manicured hands were digging into his skin. Your tongue lulled out and lavished him.

He could cum from just this alone.

However, as soon as the thought came to him, you pulled away.

“No, no, no, please, please, let me come,” he said, words flowing from his mouth before he could stop them.

“Aw,” you said with a chuckle, “begging so soon? How sweet. Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get to come soon. I’ve just got to see that little dick of yours first.”

The small bit of degradation mixed with all the praise made him twitch.

He’d never gotten any negative comments on his dick before. Rather the opposite, Valentino had tried several times before to talk him into at least faceless camera work but he didn’t want to think of the moth right now.

You pulled his underwear down to reveal his cock. It was length, a deep blue like the rest of him except were it was flushed vibrantly at the tip. He was already leaking pre-come. Milky white against his flesh.

You leaned over to lick it up. His eyes rolled back at the simple action.

Your smirked before you took him all your mouth at once. You slowly pulled up and let your teeth pull at the hood of his tip.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

He thrusted up into what was now just air as he twitched, his whole body convulsing but he didn’t come. He was on the verge though.

You shushed him as you stroked his inner thigh with your nails.

“Be a good boy for me and hand me the lube,” you said before you began sucking on the skin above his pelvic bone.

His hand went to your hair as he closed his eyes and moaned. It took him a moment to open them again but you didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t feel rushed.

When was the last time he hadn’t felt rushed while having sex? He couldn’t even remember. It was always about getting back to work as soon as possible or Valentino’s quick hits. It was never really about him. It was about getting rid of his boner or Valentino’s as soon as possible.

He liked this. He liked this feeling of. . . being cared for?

God, he was so fucking pathetic. He could feel tears filling his eyes as he reached for the lube on the bedside table.

“Are you alright, baby?” you asked. “Do you need to stop.”

“Fuck, please don’t.”

“Okay, we don’t have to stop. We can keep on going,” you said as you poured some lube into your hands. “You just keep on being a good boy for me, alright? You can cry if you need to, baby. It’s okay to cry, you know.”

That permission made it worse. He felt his face flush as tears began to stream down his face. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. He shouldn’t be crying. He’d rarely ever cried. Much less during sex, especially sex that he was enjoying.

“Can you bend your— oh, such a good boy,” you said.

You hooked his bent knees over your legs and pulled him into your lap.

You wrapped your hands, covered in warm lube (when was the last time someone had took the time to warm up lube before touching him?), around his cock and began slowly twisting your hands up and down. He couldn’t stop the weak thrusts.

“I’m sorry,” he said, repeating the phrase like a prayer.

“Shhhh, baby, it’s okay,” you told him, petting his thigh. “You take what you need. You’ve been so good for me. So good. You deserve it.”

“Fuck.”

He threw his head back against the pillow and then looked down at you. He immediately met your eyes, so soft and understanding. It made his stomach queazy.

He watched as his dick slowly was covered then revealed by your hand. It curved around him so perfectly, glistening with a mixture of lube and the pre-come he was leaking. You twisted your hand in just the right way.

You covered his cock and then revealed the head. You thumb lingered and smeared the pre-come at his tip. The point of your nail ever so gently grazed his hole and that’s what did it.

The lights flickered in the room as he spasmed and came. His screen went blank as he blacked out.

A few seconds later, he came to with you by his side with a glass. You tilted his head up and cupped your hand under his lips as you forced him to drink, any water that spilled was dropped in your hand.

You grabbed a cloth and wipes at his screen.

“Are you okay, baby? Was that good?” you asked and he could only mutely nod. “Good.”

You went to pull him into an embrace but stopped and looked down at your body. “Do you wanna clean me up or do you want me to do it?”

He followed your gaze and saw his come covering your torso, a bit of it even clinging to your bra. He leaned to lick it off you. You reclined onto the thrown of pillows and let him, stroking his shoulders and arms as he did.

He licked up to your bra and then was met with the rough contrast of the lace-like fabric compared to your smooth skin. He reached around and undid the bra. You let it fall and he licked where the come had been. Then he began sucking on your breasts.

“Oh, fuck,” this time it was you.

Spurred on, he reached down between your thighs and began stroking. You were wet, so fucking wet. His fingers slid through your folds with no hint of resistance.

He rolled your clit between two knuckles.

“Oh, so good for mommy,” you said as you continued petting him. “So good.”

He whined at both the praise and the title you had given yourself.

He began stroking you with a different purpose now. He needed you to come. He looked up at you, still sucking on your tit. He needed to see it.

Your breath quickened. Your pets turned into a tight hold. It was your turn to whine as your head rolled back and your mouth lulled open.

“So good! So good for me, baby, just like that,” you said right before you became incoherent. You groaned and moved up into his touch.

He went back to the tower feeling better than he could ever remember. The set you’d worn tucked into his pant pocket. You insisted, saying you had plenty of other sets. Who was he to refuse?

“Where the fuck have you been?” Velvette asked.

“Out,” he said as he walked passed her, in no mood for her screeching.

“For over two hours with your location turned off? You didn’t even answer your fucking phone,” Valentino said, voice raising to nearly as yell towards the end.

“Yes,” Vox said as he continued walking.

He heard Valentino laugh as he must have seen the lingerie set in his back pocket. “Were you really so busy fucking a hole that you couldn’t answer me? I hope they were good.”

“Better than you ever were,” Vox said before he closed his bedroom door, unwilling to let his lax mood be ruined.

A few months later, Vox was still going to see you. Absolutely hooked and you both knew it but so were you. You didn’t even made him pay but he still slipped money into your pocket or your bra so he wouldn’t have to face the fact that he was getting attached.

That was all thrown out the window when you released a new song. He wasn’t even halfway through watching the music video before he disappeared and found you, pulling you in for a bruising kiss and you knew exactly why.

The imagery in the music video was obvious. Pink smoke trying to creep into your studio only to be blocked, a deep blue body, TV screens everywhere. Then there were the lyrics:

I can give my babe affection without any type of infliction

You were just an intermission but I’m the center of attention

I’ve got him collared and leashed right where he needs to be

He’s down on his knees begging me with please

Better than any of his fantasies

Yeah, I’ve got his attention without infliction

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: “Babe, you have an amazing brain, love everything going on in there-”

Charlie: “Thank you!”

Vaggie: “-but we need a LITTLE bit of organization or we’re NEVER gonna remember what great ideas you had five minutes ago.”

Charlie: “Wait, what great idea did I have five minutes ago???”

Vaggie: “I don’t know. You scribbled it on a napkin and there’s like, five hundred of those scattered around our room.”

Charlie: “Aw shoot.”

Vaggie: “Some of them are folded in the shape of swans?"

Charlie: "Nnnoooo I've been trying so hard not to DO that so much!!!"

Vaggie: "It’s, pretty impressive honestly.”

Charlie: (huffs) “Okay. Fine. Maaaybe you’re right. Maybe I might have a slight, uh, organizing thoughts problem.”

Vaggie: “No worries sweetie, I have a solution.”

Vaggie: (dramatically steps aside) “BAM!”

Charlie: “OH OH VAGGIE! YOU GOT ME METAL BOXES~!”

Vaggie: “They’re filing cabinets.”

Charlie: “OHHHHH!!!”

Charlie: “…..”

Charlie: “How… how do we activate the filing cabinets?”

Vaggie: “You put your ideas in folders, label the tabs on the folders, put them in a drawer, and label each drawer. Then when you’re looking for something you just open the drawer and-”

Charlie: “Bam?”

Vaggie: “Bam. There it is. The brilliant ideas of Charlie Morningstar.”

Charlie: “As organized by Vaggie, her amazing wonderful super smart and beautiful girlfriend!!!!!”

Vaggie: (chuckling) “I don’t think looking good has anything to do with organizing…”

Charlie: “Hmm, you still are though, miss good looking. Annnnnd it DOES have a lot to do with what I’m thinking about right now.”

Vaggie: “What’re you thinking, Charlie?”

Charlie: (grins)

Vaggie: “…really? Right here, in front of our new cabinets?”

Charlie: “Heheh. I like it when stuff is ‘ours’~”

Vaggie: “Why do I get the feeling the first recorded thoughts of Charlie Morningstar are gonna have to be filed under ‘for our eyes only’.”

Charlie: “Your smirk would have to go there too then. But does this mean it’s a good idea!?”

Vaggie: “Definitely.”

Charlie: “WOO! Kisses kisses kisses-”

Vaggie: “AFTER we’ve cleaned up all these napkins. AND have neatly folded the ones that aren’t already swans.”

Charlie: “Wh- but- but there’s almost five hundred of them!! The kisses-?”

Vaggie: “One kiss per every fifty napkins, how’s that sound?

Charlie: (pouting) “Insufficient kiss ratio.”

Vaggie: “Sorry, but as much as organizing your brain turns me on, the storm of paper in here is kinda a total mood killer. No way I can focus on anything with this mess everywhere. So. Start cleaning.”

Charlie: “I’m starting to think writing on napkins was my worst idea yet…”

Vaggie: “Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been paper airplanes again.”

Charlie: “THEN I could’ve just thrown them all out the window! Be free! Fly!!! Shoo! Let me make out with my girlfriend in peace!”

Vaggie: “Ha!”

Charlie: “…. Vaggie. What if we-”

Vaggie: “Charlie no.”

Charlie: “Oh come on! Swans can fly!”

Vaggie: “Not when they’re fancy origami ones that we’ll just have to clean up later anyway.”

Charlie: “Feh. Stupid ideas on stupid napkins.”

Vaggie: “Would one kiss per every two dozen napkins make you feel better?’

Charlie: “Yes.” (deep sigh) “But I’ve only folded ten.”

Vaggie: “Perfect, I’ve done fourteen, so that makes two dozen.”

Charlie: “Wh-”

Vaggie: “Kiss ratio completed.”

Charlie: “It’s based on our combined number???”

Vaggie: “Why not. You like it when stuff is ‘ours’, don’t you.”

Charlie: “….yesthankyouiloveyouonekissplease.”

- a few several many moments later –

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “I’m suddenly getting the idea that… those were way more than one kiss.”

Vaggie: “I don’t care and wasn’t keeping count. File it under ‘Vaggie can’t multitask for shit’.”  

Charlie: “Mmm, ehhh. I think we just need a ‘Vaggie has AMAZING focus while kissing, but specifically only on the actual kissing’ folder instead.”

Vaggie: “Are you trying to get me to kiss you again.”

Charlie: “Is it working?”

Vaggie: (shoving napkins in her hands) “Here. Fold.”

Charlie: “I’m filing that under a yes~”

Vaggie: “Charlie. Fold. NOW.”

Charlie: “Hm-hmm-hm-hmmm~” (folding at lightspeed) “My newest great idea is that we should get even MORE filing cabinets.”

Vaggie: “Oh for-”(throws aside napkins) “-fuck’s sake-” (gives up and kisses her again)

[hxltic]

Just read like all of ur stuff and it’s so gooood! Saw ur post abt price ideas and what about one where he keeps pictures of you, sure there’s the cute ones but then there’s the spicy ones that he keeps as well and you find out but you’re not mad ikykik;))

You and Price have always had a healthy relationship; somehow always back and forth with harmless banter like an old couple, but the chivalry never seems to die. He was the sweetest thing, so sweet it seemed fake. Just like the movies.

The both of you would wake up and brush your teeth, the feeling so surreal in the morning you wouldn’t be surprised if a camera crew popped out of nowhere. You would make sure to make breakfast as he worked in his office.

The technology he used was so advanced, it hurt to look at the three widescreen monitors curved around the desk with several different screens and tabs pulled up. You just rest the plate beside him and lean down to peck him. He had his glasses on for work with papers stacked elsewhere.

And despite being focused, he will never deny your lips. He habitually leans up to find them. The brush of his perfectly sculpted facial hair never gets old.

Like you said, everything was so nice. Sometimes you worked out in the garden. Other times, you read a book or did pilates in the sunroom. Whenever you finished, your husband would either locate the bathroom and hug you from behind, his large biceps encasing almost your entire frame; or come in the bedroom and manually lay you out along the bed. His rough hands would treat you delicately, folding skin and tissue for a well-needed massage. God, you were spoiled.

Life was good. With no kids too? You were his one and only. His main priority.

And don’t even mention when you both go out for dinner. The dress you wear sculpts your body just right, your pretty breasts on display for him all night. He comes around the hood to open the car door for you, plus have his large hand awaiting yours patiently. A soft smile with his tight eyes leads you out of the vehicle.

Your heels clank along the pavement until the valet directs the car away, his arm wrapped around your waist until it disconnects to hold the wide restaurant door open for you. You kiss his cheek on your way in while attempting not to smudge the red on his face.

Once you sit, you go to place the strap of your purse along the back of the chair. He offers to hold it on his side for you.

“Hello and how is everyone doing on this fine evening,” the waiter starts, “My name is Jack and I will be serving you both today.”

Jack passes out the menus and John plucks it to read. He slightly squints without his glasses, but only a little. You smile at the observation.

“Is there anything special going on today?” Jack glances between the two of you.

“Not necessarily,” John shifts and gestures to you politely, “dinner with my lady.”

Sometime later Jack finally leaves, leaving you and your husband. You admire the place around you and the atmosphere. It was warm inside with low lighting, a flickering candle and a centerpiece being the only thing separating you two but a large chandelier decorating the ceiling. A plus about being married to him is that you two definitely weren’t low on money. And with no kids, he had no problems spending it.

You two talk like normal. It was so comfortable: your spot in life, your relationship with him, the environment knowing there’s a trained man by your side—you couldn’t ask for anything more.

Sometimes he’ll just gaze at you with pure delight, and the sight makes you smile back at him.

“What?” you blush and your face brightens.

“You’re a beauty.” he replies. He was taking a mental picture with the perfect lighting, your done hair, beautiful eyebrows, eyes, dress, everything about you. And on top of that, the necklace from the day you got married rested just above your breasts.

. .

After dessert, you conversed with him until the waiter returned. Suddenly, he gently takes the napkin and rests it on the table.

“I’ll be right back; have to go the restroom.”

You nod patiently as he arises and proceeds to walk on. He halts beside your seat and places a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“You alright?”

You nod again, but just in case it wouldn’t suffice, a soft “yes” falls from your lips. You know that you’re the happiest thing to happen to him, and he’d be damned if something from his own profession took that away. His head slightly dips affirmative before he fishes out his wallet and holds it to you.

You really were just going to wait until he came back, but this was better. You take it from him and flip it between your fingers to keep you occupied.

Dinner with him was so good you never even thought about your phone. And in the slim chance you did, it would make you feel bad or improper to use it. Of course he wouldn’t mind if you took a glimpse or shot a quick message, but it’s just your mental.

Jack comes around with the check, and just as quick as he came, he left. In the other hand there was a hot plate of food.

You skim the thin paper and make sure everything was calculated correctly. Your fingers unfold the black, leather wallet currently in your hands, then search for the card you notice he always picked on this occasion.

Your nails proved a problem in retrieving it from its pocket but it doesn’t stop you. You slip it behind the clear plastic of the book.

Jack comes back around.

You could wait for John to sign it, but it would take longer, so you decide to just sign it anyway. Was it illegal? Maybe.

Once the final receipts in the book are placed in front of you, you receive the card, slide it back in its previous position, then sign the tip off.

Your bag was across the table, but you trusted the security of the restaurant. So instead, you unfold the wallet and look around.

His I.D, Driver’s license, military registration stuff, A line of cards, some cash, and a picture. Of you. You’re in the sun smiling, the picture hazy and the glow on your face bouncing off your eyes. You wore a pretty sundress.

You try your best to pull it out without disturbing anything else, and when you do, you almost gasp in the restaurant when it unfolds.

There was a long list of them, some more innocent than others. And when you finally realize just how non-innocent the others were, a red flushes across your cheeks, accompanying the blush you had already put on.

One was in the lingerie you bought for his birthday. Another was you both at the bar, but only you were in the picture, the dress high on your thighs and a drink pulled up to your lips flirtatiously. That one wasn’t that bad, especially compared to the one right under it.

It was taken from behind, your arch on display. Obviously you had no clothes on—though you couldn’t see much but your loose hair, your back, only a hint of under-boob pressed into the bed sheets, and his single ring-adorned right hand holding on to yours. the picture cut off down about three fourths of your back.

Your left hand was gripping onto the sheets for life.

Your face wasn’t in it, and they were all pictures you had no problems with him taking, but the fact that he keeps them in his wallet is something you wouldn’t have thought of in a million years. Before you hold them out too long in a fancy restaurant, you fold them up and put it back.

You rest it on the table and sit your hands in your lap. Right on cue, he returns.

“Are you ready?”

He doesn’t bother to sit down and instead grabs your purse for you. He notices your quick movements and quietness. He’s picked up attentive habits being in the forces so long, so he can’t ignore how red you are. He places your bag on the table.

“Are you alright?” He asks softly. Your chin lifts with his thumb on it and another under.

“I’m okay,” you say, a lot lighter than usual. This prompts you to stand before he can get a good look at your countenance. He watches you move swiftly, then reaches for his wallet— but then it hits him like a truck.

In realization, he holds the wallet up and stares at it, then back at you. A cheeky grin grows on him, and he’s prepared to tease you for the rest of the day. It starts when you grab your purse and speed walk away, aware that he’s figured it out. He also knows you’ve been snooping.

. .

You get home, and once you thought he’d forgotten, you return to your bubbly self again. It only retreats when he’s on a knee, undoing the strap of your heels.

“Thank you baby. I love you,” you grin.

“Always. I love you too sweetheart,” he slides it off and massages your calf. “Love you so much I carry you around everywhere I go.”

You’re not sure if he did it on purpose, but your thoughts immediately trailed to earlier. You blush all over again.

He chuckles deeply as you now look away from him, but warm lips and a bit of his hair meet the slope of your foot.

©️ hxltic

[antiwhores]

Sensitive - Bakugou x reader

Bakugou is almost 30 and he’s never gotten frisky. Hes been waiting for toy and now he finally gets you. But hes so damn sensitive and can’t last for shit!

Smut, virginity loss, sensitivity, over stimulation, masturbation, foreplay, not proof read - fuck yall, male moaning, handjobs, intercourse, multiple orgasms, creampie, established relationships.

The heavy breathing against your ear after you licked a stripe up his neck was hypnotizing to you. You had only made out with him prior and he was already a hot mess.

A sharp intake of breath was pulled out of him when you put your hand up his shirt. You giggled, “So sensitive Katsuki.” He clicked his tongue, turning his red face away. “Shut the hell up.” He forced through his teeth.

It wasn’t his fault he was so damn sensitive! He’s a virgin, this is all new.

And yeah, it sounds crazy but he is. The man who was voted one sexiest man alive, the number 2 hero has never gotten laid? He was sure if he were to tell the public they’d call bullshit. He was a sex symbol, built like a fucking god. He had several whole pages dedicated to “Dynamite x reader” posts. He knows, he had to read them as a dare during a party once!

Even crazier, he hasn’t even done anything with anyone - not even a quick handjob. Sure, he got desperate once or twice and made out with an irrelevant bitch from a party but he always felt wrong when they reached for his belt. He’d grab their hand and excuse himself.

He’s been waiting for you. The only thing thats lasted him this far is his hand and his love for you. He couldn’t even count the amount of times he’d find himself with his hand stroking his cock with a tab of your photos open. He would imagine that his hand was yours and he would finish all over your chest instead of his own.

Speaking of chest, when did his shirt come off? And his belt? Was it hot in here or was it just him? Your hands felt so fucking good as they touched along his abs. You leaned in for another kiss which he greedily accepted. His breath hitched when you’d touch too low.

You didn’t want him at first- well, you definitely did but you couldn’t. By the time he realized that he wanted to peruse a relationship and his 9th grade crush isn’t so seventh grade anymore, you you were in a committed relationship with some scumbag who did nothing but make you cry.

Then he got too involved with work and couldn’t check on you as often. You practically disappeared for 2 years. But he found you again and you were back to the childhood friends attitude you both originally had.

After another year you guys broke up. You were heartbroken and scared for another relationship for another 3 years. Then you disappeared for another 1 year. Then he found you again after patiently waiting. And for the last 3 years you two have been catching up until eventually he asked you out and you agreed.

It took you a while to involve sexual stuff into the relationship. You were scared, he could wait longer. He’d wait to the end for you.

But todays the day and his heart couldn’t be pounding any louder.

You traced your fingers along his v line, caressing the happy trail on your way. He couldn’t handle your soft touches, he was gonna cum just from that.

“Stop teasing me.” He groaned out through his gritted teeth. You giggled, music to his ears, “Sorry Katsuki, you’re just so pretty.”

You reached for his sweatpants, the already hard bulge catching your eye. “Wait,” He accidentally yelled. You flinched your hand back and looked up wt him. “What-“ “Take off your clothes too.”

It was a bold remark and you loved it. You smiled that smile that makes his knees buckle as you reached to take off your top. He practically drooled at the sight of your bra. “Can I feel them?” You took of the bra, letting the girls free so that he could see everything. You nodded, “Of course, my love.”

He was mesmerized by the look of them. Absolutely everything he imagined and more. Like a dream come true. He couldn’t wait to see your cunt and ass.

He lightly squeezed your chest, too scared of hurting you to go harder. Your face contorted into a look of pleasure. He squeezed harder then began to full on fondle your boobs.

You grabbed his hand as you cursed through a moan. You could feel yourself getting wetter by the moment. His hand slipped down your abdomen and hesitantly hung at your waistband. This isn’t how it was supposed to go!

You grab his hand and force it off you. He flinches like he just accidentally stabbed you. Before he could freak out too much you spoke. “No, I’m taking care of you tonight. Don’t.”

“I want to touch you too though!” He argued. You shook your head, he pouted. “Can you at least take off your pants? I don’t wanna be the only one only in underwear.” You snickered at his request but still pried your shorts off to reveal your black panties with white heart designs.

He didn’t get much time to oogle before he practically jumped out of his skin at the feeling of your fingers gracing his clothed cock. “Off.” You demanded.

He carefully took off his pants, revealing the plain black underwear he wore. His bulge was constricting hard against the fabric. He was fucking big. You could tell just by looking at it through the underwear. It squeezed around him in a way that couldn’t be anything less than painful.

“Stop starin’” He groaned. You gave him an apologetic look before moving your hand to lightly outline the bulge. He breathed sharply through his teeth, his abs twitching ever so slightly.

You felt bad for teasing him, he was being so nice. So you cut to the chance and palmed him hard.

It caught him so off guard that he couldn’t stop the moan that flew out of his mouth. His hand shot up to grab your arm to stable himself. You palmed at him again before trying to move your hand away. He kept it in place, trying to make contact once more to cure the raging heat he felt in his body.

You used the hand to pull down his boxers.

You were right, he was huge. Thick and long with prominent veins running down the sides. An angry red tip that leaked precum like a broken faucet. His balls hung tight, filled to the brim with his seed and desperate to share. You almost came just looking at it. How would that thing comfortably fit inside you?

You swallowed, wrapping your hands around it and doing your first test pump. “Fuccckk” He moaned, tilting his head back. His hips thrusted into your hand to prevent the stillness you obtained. “Move it y/n” Bakugou whined. So you did.

Sloppy noises filled the room as you fisted him up and down. You listened carefully to his directions of “faster” and “harder”. He had to put a hand around his mouth to cover his desperate whines and moans.

You couldn’t stop yourself from beginning to rub your clit at his noises and reactions. He was just so hot.

You were nearly 2 minutes in and he was ready to bust everywhere.

Your hands felt even better than he imagined. Your soft skin wrapped around his cock held him in chokehold. He wouldn’t last much longer.

You could tell he was close by the way he balls constricted, readying his load for you. His body tensed and untensed rapidly. His hips began to thrust up into your hands uncontrollably. His moans became silent and he dove into your mouth to indulge in a sloppy, aggressive kiss.

When he finally came he moaned loud into your mouth, “Nghhhuhnnnmmm” His cum shot up out of his cock in explosive groups. He tensed up so hard you were surprised he didn’t get a charley horse. His heads heated up against the bruising grip he hand on your waist. You winced from the combination of burn and bruise.

When he came down from his high he couldn’t breath steady. He was huffing on what looked like a limited supply of air. His elbow rested over his eyes to hide his look of relief and lust.

His cum was hot, hotter than normal. It burned the skin of your chest like hot wax.

You whispered praises for Katsuki as you reached for his already spent cock again. His whole body jerked when you grabbed him and started to jerk him awake. “What nghh the fufkknn?” He moaned. His nails dug into the skin of you thigh as you removed your panties.

“Did you think we were done?” You said as you climbed into his lap. He wasn’t looking at you so he didn’t see you line his cock up to your entrance. Just from a few strokes he was already rock hard.

You both practically screamed as you sunk yourself down onto his long, girthy cock.

You gave yourself a few seconds to prepare, you had to. You’d die if you didn’t. His hands shot to your hips, revealing his face. He was flushed a deep red, sweat dripping down his forehead. His eyes were blown so wide you had to really focus to see the red you’ve come to adore. You looked down at you with heart eyes, like you were a descendant of a god coming to bless him.

After you adjusted you began to bounce yourself on his cock. He whined and moaned against you with his mouth leaking saliva. “Haaauhhh, fuck, just like that baby nhghh.” He let out a high pitched whine when you squeezed around his girth.

He was hitting all the right spots inside you. You had never been this full before. He pushed himself into your cervix with each trust at this angle. You quickly became dunk off of him too.

Too drunk to notice that he was already prematurely cumming into you with a loud cry. His seed inside you burned at your walls in such a good way. You couldn’t be bothered to listen to his overstimulated pleads begging for a break. Tears started to bundle down his cheek as his mouth hung open. His moans were silent now, painful. The pleasure of your walls was unimaginable. He couldn’t handle it. It was too much.

You moaned loudly against him when you came. It was such an intense orgasm you couldn’t help but to force yourself into his neck and bite him hard enough to draw blood.

You squeezed so hard around Bakugou that he blanked out. Stars filling his vision to match yours. And as soon as you’re done riding out your high, he cums everything he has left into you.

He practically shoves you off of his cock after he’s freed from his painful orgasm. He still twitches and shakes. He mumbled curses under his breath to calm his racing heart.

You lay down under the covers of his bed, dragging him with you down. He snuggles into your neck, hugging you so tight it hurts.

“You’re perfect.” He mumbles through pants. You give a kiss to his swollen bite, “I love you too, Katsuki.”

[jagibee]

Call Me Luna

(Stray Kids x Reader)

Chapter 2

2,355 Words

A/N: Y’all have no idea how hard I fought for my life against Tumblr to post this. Hope you guys enjoy, lmk what you think!💞

…

Honestly, you had never intended to sign on for a job with a big company, especially one that was just starting out with an omegan caretaker program. It was just easier to settle down with a nice rich pack where your clients already had cooks and cleaners and you mostly just had to listen to the members complain about each other and settle minor disputes. That was how the last pack you worked for operated.

But, you applied anyway. You were a fan of several of the bands and it was no big deal if they rejected you, which was pretty likely. If they only had one caretaker per band and a couple hundred truly qualified candidates, the odds weren’t 100% in your favor, especially because you didn’t grow up in Korea. Still, it would be an interesting story to tell people.

Even if there was a 99.99% chance they were rejecting you, it still took you some time to muster up the courage to open the email from JYPE.

When you finally managed to do so, you were sitting in your bed with your laptop in front of you. Just in case you took the news worse than you thought, you opened up a tab for how to start a new life.

Nothing bad was going to happen, you reminded yourself, the email either says yes or no, they aren’t going to come beat you up if they reject you.

Sucking in a deep breath and closing your eyes, you clicked on the email. Giving yourself a few seconds to enjoy this moment before your heart broke just a little, you finally opened your eyes.

“Dear Ms. L/N Y/N, we were quite impressed with your blah blah blah yada yada yada…” Glossing over all the formalities, your eyes skipped to the important part.

“After careful consideration, we’ve decided to accept you as an omegan caretaker for one of our bands.”

Wait.

Shit.

Shit.

What?

They wanted you as the omegan caretaker of one of their bands? Choosing not to trust your eyes, you read over that sentence five more times before collapsing backwards onto your bed, exhaling harshly.

You sat back up to read the rest of the email and see if they specified which band. Maybe it was a completely made up band just for a prank or something.

“Unfortunately we are not at liberty to tell you which band you will be working with just yet, for safety and privacy reasons. You will be told your assignment once you meet with us in person.”

Shit, you thought, I guess I’ve got to pack.

…

You weren’t sure whether it was better or worse they didn’t tell you which band you were assigned to.

For the entire duration of the flight, you were wondering which group it would be and what you knew about each one. You couldn’t think of anything else and you couldn’t go to sleep or anything, no matter what you tried. However, if you had known who it was, your mind would have done the same, only it would have been freaking out about certain members and what each person was like and what they needed from you.

Secondary gender dynamics were a bit of a controversial subject in the kpop industry. Some companies made their fans aware of their idols’ classification, even some talking about it freely in interviews.

However, JYPE kept most of that information private. Of course, there were guesses made by the fans, and sometimes stalkers who tried their best to uncover their bias’ secondary gender.

You didn’t want to make assumptions, but you did know that most groups had alphas as their leaders, a bit of an out-dated custom but as long as the group dynamic worked and everyone got along with each other, it was above your pay grade.

Also, something you would have to adapt to would be if you were assigned to a boy group or a girl group. The difference didn’t matter much to you personally, but in the industry, there were certain things you had to consider.

After a while of all this swirling around in your mind, even some of it getting jotted down in your Notes app, you were startled from your thoughts by the pilot’s voice, telling you that you would be landing soon.

Honestly, after that, you kind of forgot the rest, it all happened so fast.

You arrived at night and found a person with a sign reading your name. You walked up and introduced yourself. They had a car and you got in.

At some point, you had tried to get out information regarding the group you had been assigned to, but apparently “once you meet with us in person” did not extend to your driver.

You were taken to a nice hotel that had been paid for by the company and told to rest. There would be a meeting at the company in the morning.

Just like on the plane, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep, so you took your time getting ready.

There was a huge shower and a nice tub, so you decided, ‘screw it, I’m doing both’.

You washed yourself with soap that highlighted your natural omega scent and when you dried off, you lotioned everywhere.

After taking a tentative sniff of the hotel body wash, you were glad you brought your own. Evidently, all the money that the hotel got from its rich guests didn’t go into shower products.

You washed your face until you had practically rubbed a layer of skin off and then spent far too long picking an outfit.

Despite the limited space in your suitcases, you finally managed to find one you deemed adequate.

Checking yourself over in the mirror, you couldn’t help a little shiver of excitement.

Holy shit they want me. Me! MEEEEEEE!!!

Unfortunately, the excitement quickly turned into anxiety.

Fuck, what if they don’t? What if they look at me and say “oh shit she was actually supposed to go into the ‘never ever ever pile’”? Or worse. They know it’s you and they’re expecting you to be amazing and then you’re going to somehow set the building on fire.

You flopped backwards onto the way-too-big-for-any-one-person bed and just decided to space out to some music.

While you weren’t actually in the music business, it was cool that your new job had led you somewhere more . . . music-adjacent.

After listening to one or two songs and washing away your thoughts, your alarm went off, telling you it was time to go down to the lobby where another car would be waiting for you.

It was a short drive to the company and for the most part, you had managed to keep your sanity in check. However, once you saw the signs outside the building, your heartbeat skyrocketed.

Is this meeting with the managers or just the band? Maybe it will just be with managers or a special team for organizing the caretakers. Would you get to meet the other caretakers? That could be fun, getting to share tips and exchanging stories about awful clients.

That thought calmed you partially, but most of your brain was consumed with just one concern: god, I hope the band likes me.

You were ushered through the door and a pretty beta who introduced herself as Jisu took you to an elevator and up to the conference room where your meeting would take place.

They had given you a pastel yellow lanyard that said ‘CARETAKER’ and when you looked around the room, you could see that most of the people in the room had one as well.

After telling you to sit anywhere, Jisu left the room, presumably to greet and guide someone else.

You smiled at the people in the room, there were three other caretakers sitting at a table and two people who stood up looking down at clipboards. All of the caretakers were omegas, along with one of the clipboard people, but the other was a beta. One of the caretakers, a dark-skinned woman who looked to be just a couple years older than you, smiled back kindly and you elected to sit next to her. Her scent was like sweet wild berries.

She leaned over and whispered, “So, first time in Korea?” You couldn’t place her accent, but you wanted to hear more of it.

You turned to her and nodded. “Yes, but I’ve studied the language and culture so hopefully I’ll be able to adjust quickly.”

“Yes, but you can only learn so much without actually being here. It’s very different from my home,” she mused.

About to ask her where she was from, you were interrupted by Jisu escorting another person with a yellow badge into the room. Immediately after, a beta man in a suit came in with a bunch of files and sat down in the front of the room with his hands folded in front of him.

“Greetings, I am Park Kwang-sun and I will be overseeing all of the omegan caretaker operations. Today, we will train you on what the company expects from you as well as how to deal with any problems that will arise. Mostly, we will focus on what you can do in public and on camera versus what you can do in private. We should end at around lunchtime and then, after a break, you will receive the assignments regarding which band you will be tending to.”

You could feel the air go a little sharper, with every caretaker in the room anticipating which client they will get.

Kwang-sun continued on. “After that, you will meet with one of the managers of that band to discuss specifics and then the cars will take you back.”

Okay. Okay, no actual meeting the band today. That was fine. That way you could study up on the members and decide the best way to interact with them.

You settled in for a couple hours of watching a slideshow, telling you mostly that you couldn’t curse, reveal private information, or do anything inappropriate on camera or in public. It was a bit obvious and therefore a bit boring, but seeing a serious, professional man in a suit and perfect haircut stand with a slide behind him displaying every curse word you could think of, in English and Korean, did bring you some amusement.

Kwang-sun explained that since they were just starting out with an omegan caretaker program, along with the rest of the kpop industry, your role could be negotiated into what you felt was best for the band. If you just wanted to take care of them in private, or if you wanted to be with them 100% of the time, you could bring that up with the band and their managers and they would figure out the best way to adapt.

When it was time for break, they brought up meals from the cafeteria that were actually pretty good and you got to know a little about the other caretakers.

The dark-skinned woman was named Saira and she was born in India but studied in Paris. There was another woman, lighter-skinned but with striking purple lipstick named Millie, who was born and studied in London. The curly-haired man sitting next to Millie introduced himself as Justin, and he was from Cairo. The man who came in after you said his name was Jae and he was from Busan but studied in New York.

The company must have been serious about finding the best people for the job since these people came from all over. You felt slightly intimidated and definitely under qualified.

You were evidently the youngest there, then Justin, Millie, Saira, and finally Jae, though you and Jae were only a couple years apart.

You learned that Millie had always wanted to be a caretaker, inspired by the one that her pack had when she was young. Jae was originally planning to become a doctor and had even completed a year of pre-med, but decided to focus more on mental health. After growing up in a pack mostly made up of omegas, Saira studied pack dynamics with a focus on alphas in order to round out what she didn’t know from her own experience. Justin had been a mechanic and had planned on going to law school before he signed up for a part-time caretaker initiation program with his friend and discovered his calling.

It was nice to learn about the other caretakers and their experiences, but your thoughts were mostly occupied with which group you would be assigned to.

After seemingly ages, Kwang-sun came back with five files under his arm. Checking the names, he handed one out to each of you.

Huh. It looked so plain for something that was going to change your life. Just a manila folder with your name in black, bolded ink. You looked around to your fellow caretakers. No one had looked inside their files yet, awaiting instructions to do so. However, Jae and Saira, as the oldest, seemed to be much more composed than Justin and Millie who each had wide eyes mirroring your own.

Back at the front of the room, Kwang-sun had grabbed a clipboard from one of the two others in the room, neither of them had said anything for the entire time so you really didn’t know what they were here for.

Kwang-sun looked up with a smile. “Now, for what I’m sure you’ve all been waiting for. Here are your assignments: Jae you will be working with TWICE.”

A silent nod was all the acknowledgement Jae gave.

“Saira, you will be working with NMIXX.”

In response, she gave a thoughtful “hmm” but nothing more.

“Millie, you will be working with Xdinary Heroes.”

Her jaw dropped slightly but she took a deep breath and nodded like Jae.

“Justin, you will be working with ITZY.”

He let out a sharp exhale that sounded a bit like a laugh.

“And Y/N, you will be working with Stray Kids.”

You felt ice and fire fighting in your veins.

What?

[miscfandomwrites]

A/N: Don’t know how this college will show up on tumblr, so let’s see. This is an old, old idea that I got one day after I drew all over my arm in eyeliner when I was in class. It was actually really pretty, and thus the idea for this was born. Due to my ADHD it’s hard to focus in class, and because of that I need some sort of stimulation to make my brain think. This was written with an attention disorder in mind for the reader.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F! Reader

Location: Marvel > Natasha Romanoff > Oneshots

Warnings: None, just a small drabble with fluff

Words: 900ish

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

~~

“We need to move in from this direction instead and then we can carry them out.” Bucky voiced from his place against the wall. 

I didn’t bother to follow the conversation, as this was the fourth time that they’ve been over editing the plan even when the first plan was perfect. 

I inwardly groaned and leaned my head back, moving my arms and stretching. Enjoying the feel of my back popping. The debate about how we were to get in was still going, and I ended up digging through my jacket pockets. Damn, I had a fidget in here this morning…

Still tuning everyone out, I found an eyeliner pen. Wait, wasn’t I looking for that yesterday?

You have got to be kidding me. I was. My habit, or rather, unconscious habit of losing things wasn’t fun. I misplaced things often enough to where I kept trackers on several items I used daily. Everyone idolizes having an attention disorder until you realize just how fucking shitty it is.

Seriously, I can’t get through the day without misplacing something. Or caffeine. Both. 

I ran a hand through my hair, tucking it behind my ears as I pulled the cap off the pen. It was one of the oil-based ones, which meant it was easy to clean off of skin. Laying my hand on the table I started sketching some bones on my fingers, then moved to my hand. Keeping tabs on the conversation, I finished my hand and moved to my arm. Instead of bones I just drew swirls, some small stars, and honestly whatever came to mind. I did the same with my other hand, albeit a bit messier because it wasn’t my dominant hand that was doing the drawing.

“We’re done with this for now. Let’s go over this tomorrow.” Steve said as he clapped his hands together, and shut off the screen. I glanced up only to meet Natasha’s eyes. As soon as she caught my gaze she smiled. I smiled back at her.

Everyone in the tower knew I had an attention disorder, and if just given my fidgets I would be fine. It turns out both of the scientists and I share that in common, and more often than not we were inventing some sort of new fidget toy. Of course, after the lighter-knife-spinner combination, we were a bit limited on our creations. Still, we got along great.

Everyone slowly got up and headed out to wherever they would be going, and I pulled out my phone and earbuds. Donning my jacket and tugging my phone in a pocket, I started my music and headed out, headless of Natasha calling after me.

I got to my floor and immediately shoved my shoes and socks off, along with my jacket and pants. I was bored enough that the thought of doodling over my legs sounded entertaining enough that I discarded my pants as well, kicking them over the back of the couch and flopping down onto it. I grabbed the remote and started from where I left off of (Favorite show) and went back to work. Eventually my feet were covered, and I moved up to my calves, then my knees, and soon enough my entire legs were covered. I drew up my arms as best I could, and fixed my hands. 

“So, this was the result?” Natasha’s voice scared the shit out of me, causing a huge streak of eyeliner to mess up my doodles on my arms. I turned towards her, mouth open in shock. She huffed a laugh and went around the couch, sitting down next to me.

She held out her hand. “May I?” She asked. I handed her the pencil and she gently took my arm, and continued my drawing up my arm and onto my shoulder, before lightly drawing them on my neck, and eventually my cheek. 

“These are really pretty...have you considered getting these tattooed?” She asked me as she switched sides and started working on my other arm. 

“I have, but I also realized that I’d want them different as soon as I saw them.” I replied. 

“That makes sense. You typically don’t like things to be permanent, they always need to be changing.” 

“Yeah, some permanent things. Such as tattoos, furniture, clothes. I change those often. But people however...they’re always changing.” 

“Ah, so in relationships you wouldn’t be deterred if someone wanted something permanent with you?” She questioned, tracing the pencil up my neck and onto my cheek, leaning closer to me. 

“No, I wouldn’t. I prefer that type of stability in my life.” I whispered as she leaned closer to me. 

“Do you want something permanent?” 

“I do.” I leaned closer and closed the gap between us.

[rapha-reads]

OOooooh my goodness, Doctor Who goes full mythology *full body shiver*

I'm aware it's not the first time, but from what I'm reading, Sutekh appears in only one TV serial before today, and all of his other appearances are in audio, comics and prose. And without doing too much research (edit: I ended up doing too much research), every episode that somewhat touched on the spiritual/mythological before never put the deity at the center of the story (except the pantheon of discord, but the Tardis Wiki article on it isn't very long and I already have done enough research for today). Like, "The Satan Pit", remember, who cares that Satan was chained on an asteroid somewhere in space, that wasn't the point. Interesting to note, "The Satan Pit" was not written by RTD, but did you notice how Carla Sunday was the first one to name Sutekh before anyone else, and call him "The Beast"? The Beast being one of the name of the Devil? And the Egyptian God Set, or Sutekh, having been conflated with the Devil when Egyptian religion met Christianity...? Clearly RTD and his writers have done their research. By the way, the Devil article on Tardis Wiki is fascinating. But unless I read too fast, none of the several Devils, Satans and Beasts the Doctor has encountered are part of the Pantheon of Discord, though Sutekh does use the name Beast too. Go figure.

Anyway... Not really a point to my ramblings. I don't want to do a full review of the episode just yet, I want to wait for the second part. But Set was my favourite Egyptian god as a kid, I've always thought that he's too easily cast as the evil god when polytheist pantheons usually do not have a single figure of evil, but gods representing concepts that can be used for evil (the way Loki in Norse mythology is a trickster god but his representations today turns him into a demon, demon here holding the monotheistic, abrahamic meaning of the word; note to self: check out the academic literature on comparisons and parallels between Loki and Set - how much syncretism at work here?).

Ahem. I don't know where I'm going with that. To revisit later, when I've had time to put my thoughts in order. Things to point out:

Carla calling the shade surrounding the Tardis "The Beast" before anyone else could start to guess anything - something fishy is going on with her.

Mrs Flood. Everything about her.. Is she a Sutekh cultist, like in the old episode "Pyramides of Mars"? Is she another Harbinger? Is she another, last surviving Time Lord?

Is the storm only coincidental, or is it going to be important in the next episode? By which I mean, is it a normal storm, or are we talking locusts and cricket plague storm? (Or sand-of-time-storm, ba dum tse)

Speaking of Harbinger, kinda sad Harriet isn't an actual character, she was cool.

So does this mean that this Susan was another Harbinger, or an avatar of Sutekh, who took on the name to mock the Doctor? EDIT: checked the Tardis wiki, she was an actual woman who was later possessed by Sutekh and turned into his puppet. Okay, one mystery solved.

The way Kate looked at the Doctor after the death of the security officer in the Time Window. Oof. That. That hurts.

The way Mel is not surprised at all by the Doctor's meltdown, and knows exactly how to stop him from spiralling down and getting back up. That's Companion Experience here.

Ruby and Rose immediately becoming the best of friends. Yes please!

Oh, music talk! Did y'all notice that the Saxon theme was played when Susan's prompter started going haywire? I recognised the melody but couldn't put my finger on it, just knew Murray Gold was playing us a throwback, until I read the Tardis Wiki page about the episode. Quite nice!

Okay, I already have 10 different Tardis Wiki tabs opened, I'm gonna calm down before I start writing an entire thesis about Doctor Who and Mythology. .. Do you think there's already thesis like that? I would love to read that.

Apart from all of that, it's kind of a weird episode, though, isn't it? The Doctor usually never seeks out trouble, and they hardly ever ask for help. Like, they don't just pop in for a visit, or to use UNIT's tech unless a crisis has already begun, or UNIT themselves called them in. At least in New Who, main TV episodes, I can't remember one instance of the Doctor appearing in UNIT's HQ or where their former companions are of their own volition (in Class, he appears in Coal Hills, because the Shadowkin are already here; in the Sarah Jane Adventures, I haven't watched it, but Tenth comes to help Sarah Jane because she's trapped in a Time Loop, and later Eleventh is a plot point himself; same in "Day of the Doctor", UNIT calls him in, crisis already ongoing). The Doctor appearing in UNIT HQ, saying "alright, here are two mysteries that I want solved today and y'all are going to help me", that's very new. And maybe very welcome...? If it makes the Doctor reconnect with former companions, and start popping in for tea and scones, that would be nice.

[gifsbymel]

host your gif packs on google sites

Since I received a question from an anon about how I upload my gifs to the google site, you can find the answer here. This is my first tutorial, and english is not my native language, but I hope it will be understandable and sorry if I wrote something wrong in english. I hope it's understandable and good luck, feel free to write if you have any questions and I'll try to help.

First of all, I always create the gif pack page on tumblr, it's easier to see the code there, it's easier for me to change things, because there is more space. And there I can see if everything is okay. However, it is important that there is a few code that works here, but not on the google site. When I find everything in perfect, I copy the code of the gif page and paste it to the google site page.

So I always open the google site page (You must log in with your gmail account to be able to use it.) : https://sites.google.com

When you open it, it will be a blank page, but there will be that colored plus sign at the bottom right. You can create a new page with it. I already have several, I tried to organize things there.

4. If you click on the plus sign, it brings up this, I don't usually change anything here. In the right-hand bar, there is "pages" (marked in green in the picture), you have to select it.

5. If you have selected the pages menu, you will see a plus sign again in the lower right corner. Click on it and select "full page embed". (I circled it in red in the second picture)

6. If you selected this, it will ask you to name the page. Enter the name you want. I usually include the name of the actor/actress + the name of the series and the episode in various formats. (Since I create the page both here and on the tumblr page, sometimes I copy the name given on the tumblr page.) When you press done, you will see what is in the second picture.

7. If you move the mouse over the part marked in green, i.e. on the name of the created page, 3 small dots will appear on the far right. Click on it and select "hide from navigation". If this was the case, then the small sign will be crossed out in front of the page name in the right side bar and there will be no menu bar at the top of the displayed page. After that, all that's left is to paste the code of the gif page, i.e. the gifs. You have to click on the "Add Embed" , which is in the middle and can be clearly seen in the picture. And choose "Embed code" and copy the cod / gif link here. [second picture]

8. I have marked on the picture where you can find after this, the edit button [in red], if you want to delete the page [in blue], or if you would like to preview it. [with purple color in the picture]

9. If you find everything OK, then all that's left is to press the "publish" button in the upper right corner. The previous picture shows where you can find it. Then it will ask you to enter a name for your web adress. Name it whatever you want, think of it as the name of a main tumblr page where you can always create gif packs. This only needs to be entered once, unless you want several main pages, as I have several (as can be seen in the very first picture). Eg: I named the current one gifsbymel2024.

10. I marked the paper clip / chain (?) icon in green on the picture, you have to click on it and then the link of the created page will pop up and you can share it with whoever you want.

11. If you always want to upload a new gif pack to your page after that, all you have to do is open the Google site page, select your page from the already created "recent sites" section and then go to the "pages" tab on the right side and repeat the steps as before featured. Only the name of the "recent site" will be omitted if you add the gif packs to an existing one.

[justalonelyslytherin]

Legacies | two

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Kazansky!OC

Summary: It's time for the daggers to meet their instructor and for Ana to test her patience with Hangman.

Warnings: mentions of stabbing/prodding with a pen, no actual stabbing, some dialogue taken out of the movie

Wordcount: 2.6k

If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don’t allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. Please don’t steal my work.

A/N:

Taglist: open, message me or comment to be added, will be put as reblog

The flight suit's fabric rustled as she pushed her arms through the sleeves and pulled them up her shoulders. Ana shifted on her feet, tugging at the suit several times before reaching down. Her fingers brushed the metal teeth of the zipper until they found the pull tab. In one smooth, long pull she zipped it up.

“Hey Ghost, are you done?” She turned around to Halo and Phoenix, also in their flight suits, standing across the bench from her in the locker room.

“Right behind you.” Cocking her head towards the doors, she motioned for them to go ahead. Once they had left, after the door to the room fell shut and Ana was alone, she allowed herself to take a deep breath. The flight suits had many pockets, some of which the aviators used to keep a little memory or lucky charm on them. Ana did too. In the right chest pocket of her suit, she kept a small picture.

She glanced down at the crumpled and crinkly paper, the corners were dogeared and torn from use but that didn’t matter to her. What mattered was to have a piece of her family on her, always. She smiled down at the picture taken in her parent's backyard. There were her siblings surrounding her mother, all of them trying to hug her at the same time, and just beside them her father and her. He had his one arm thrown over the pile of people while he pressed her to his chest with his other arm. Ana had both her arms thrown around his middle. They all were smiling brightly into the camera, the laughter of that day resounded loud in her memory.

Watching the picture just a moment longer, her thumb stroked over the corner of the paper before she put it back into her pocket. A glance at her watch told her she had to hurry.

Arriving at the classroom inside the hangar she was the last to join the group. Naturally, they had already chosen and taken their seats. 

Walking up to the tables set up where the aircraft usually were stored, she spied Hondo standing to the side. It surprised her, but then again it shouldn’t. Where Maverick was, Hondo wasn’t far away. They had become an inseparable duo in the last years, judging from Mav's text updates and the many stories of her father. Many about how he sent them everywhere together, Maverick's companion and his watchful eyes wherever her father couldn’t follow him himself.

Hondo looked over, his eyes lit up with recognition, she could have sworn to have seen a small smirk appear on his face. In a way, it felt weird to have so many people involved in this mission with whom she had personal connections. Maverick, Rooster, and Hondo now too. She wondered if that would make everything more complicated or easier. There was also still the question of what they were here for and how serious their task would be. Ana couldn’t yet estimate how it would be. Some part of her, deep down, worried about it.

Letting her eyes pan over the tables she realized two things. There was only one more empty seat available and it was beside Hangman in the first row. She had to stifle a groan. That was the last place she wanted to sit. 

Slowly she made her way to the front where she slipped into the single free chair beside the cocky bastard. Upon seeing Ana take the seat beside him Hangman started to grin. She wanted to wipe that cocky, wolfish grin out of his face. Hard. When he opened his mouth her desire to strangle him only intensified.

“You know if you wanted to be near me you could have said something yesterday evening and I gladly would have taken you to my place.”

“I’m not that desperate to be around someone who’s all bark and no bite.” She glared at him from the side but Hangman only chuckled and put a toothpick between his lips.

“I’m all bite too Darlin’. Just need you to let me show you.” He leaned towards her and winked. The way he was grinning told her he was utterly pleased with himself and the comeback he had come up with. As he leaned back in his seat she got the impression that to him it was like he had just won a prize. It angered her, even more, when the way he nonchalantly flipped the toothpick in his mouth with just his tongue sent ripples through her, causing a tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach. 

“Attention on deck!” Everyone rose to their feet, back straight, eyes forward and hands at their sides as their superiors walked into the hangar. Rear Admiral Simpson stopped beside Hondo on the side while Vice Admiral Bates walked up to the podium.

“Morning. Welcome to your special training detachment. Be seated.” The chairs scraped against the floor as they sat down again. There was an air of eagerness and curiosity between everyone.

“I'm Admiral Bates, NAWDC commander. You're all TOP GUN graduates. The elite. The best of the best.” Warlock briefly stopped. “That was yesterday.” 

She furrowed her brows at his words. He had just praised them immensely only to shoot them down the next moment. Why?

“The enemy's new fifth-generation fighter has leveled the playing field. Details are few, but you can be sure we no longer possess the technological advantage.

Success, now more than ever, comes down to the man or woman in the box.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Hangman turn his head to the other side, glancing somewhere to their left before he looked straight ahead again. It distracted her, causing another wave of annoyance to wash over her. She didn’t want to be distracted by him, not right now, not ever. To make matters worse he had been bouncing his leg under the table. The movement in her peripheral vision wasn’t making it any easier to pay attention to her superior.

“Half of you will make the cut. One of you will be named mission leader. The other half will remain in reserve.” This time when Hangman turned his head - towards her before he glanced behind - she knew exactly where or rather who he was looking at. She knew Rooster sat just two rows behind them. Their squabble at the bar was still fresh in her mind. Anyone who knew these aviators, even just the slightest, would also know that the role of mission leader was a head-to-head fight between Hangman and Rooster. Hangman always had to be the best. Losing was no option for him. She knew he would fight for that position with everything he had, perhaps even dirty. Normally she wouldn’t have cared for these power games between colleagues but Rooster was something more than just her fellow aviator. She was somewhat protective of the man she had grown up with near side by side.

Discreetly grabbing the pen that lay before her, she slowly put her hand under the table, the pen tightly clutched into her hand. In a swift movement, she shoved the tip of the pen into the side of his leg, poking - stabbing - him. Hangman’s head shot back towards her, a hint of surprise had dilated his pupils, his mouth opened a hint. Ana glared at him from the side, pulling her hand back before she changed her mind and placed her hand on his knee, pushing it down to stop the incessant bouncing of it. Hangman continued to stare at her, a small smirk tugging at his lips as she pulled her hand back. This time entirely.

“Your instructor is a TOP GUN graduate with real-world experience in every mission aspect you will be expected to master. His exploits are legendary.”

Approaching footsteps resounded in the large hall, echoing from the floor and the high ceilings as Warlock continued his speech. Like her fellow aviators, Ana too glanced behind to catch a first glimpse at their instructor. Other than them however she already knew who their instructor was. So it wasn’t Maverick’s approaching figure that caught her attention as it did her colleagues. Her view fell onto Coyote, whose face fell, mouth turned upside down, and jaw tight. 

He, Payback, and Hangman had thrown Maverick out of the Hard Deck the night before, all three displaying rather cocky and demeaning behaviors towards their senior. Now that behavior would bite them in the butt.

“And he's considered to be one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced.”

Hangman’s expression was even better than Coyote’s. She watched him turn back forward with slumped shoulders and closed eyes, rubbing over them and the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger.

“What he has to teach you may very well mean the difference between life and death.”

Seeing the otherwise cocky and self-assured pilot with so much regret and defeat amused her greatly. She snickered quietly to herself but not quietly enough. Opening his eyes again Hangman glanced over at her. Ana shrugged her shoulders.

“You didn’t know?”, she taunted him.

“You did?” He asked her with one raised brow. Once again she shrugged her shoulders. Still smiling she turned back towards the front as Maverick walked through the two rows of tables to the front.

“I give you Captain Pete Mitchell. Callsign: ‘Maverick’.” Watching Maverick take to the podium made her smile even more.

“Good Morning.” Maverick looked over the rows of aviators, staying a beat longer on Ana than the others. She gave him a brief nod and the slightest hint of a smile on her face. Then he held up a thick bundle of paper held together by a metal file fastener.

“The F-18 NATOPS.” He patted the front of the thick stack of papers, putting it down on the podium before continuing.

“It contains everything they want you to know about your aircraft. I'm assuming you know the book inside and out.” A chorus of affirmations followed his words. Maverick glanced over at Cyclone and Warlock, Ana noticed and sat up straighter. That look, albeit she couldn’t entirely tell what, meant Maverick was about to do something controversial, potentially - very likely - getting himself in trouble. He took up the manual again, chucking it into the bin beside the podium. With a heavy thud, it landed.

Ana couldn’t help but snort in surprise and disbelief. It was so on-brand for Maverick that it shouldn’t surprise her. She had heard so many stories about his shenanigans even if she had never seen them firsthand until now. The others seemed shocked, Hangman glanced over at her and for a brief moment, their eyes locked.

“So does your enemy.” 

That one sentence was enough to bring his point across. And to bring Ana back to professionality. She turned serious once more, listening intently to him, mentally preparing for whatever they - whatever Mav - was going to ask from them. 

“But what the enemy doesn't know is your limits. I intend to find them, test them, push beyond. Today we'll start with what you only think you know. You show me what you're made of.” Even with the seriousness of the mission, she was sensing ever stronger, the corners of her mouth turned up once more.  She knew how Maverick flew and she knew how good he was. Ana may have never seen him fly in an F-18 but the stories she has heard about his career were enough to have her excited. She was looking forward to being able to go head-to-head with her godfather. Finally. It was something she had been wanting to do since she was little. Since the first time she heard the stories about both Mav and her father’s legendary exploits.

Throughout the entire group, an air of excitement developed. Of course, the others longed to prove their talent. Maybe they even thought they had a chance against Maverick, thinking they’d have an easy time showing him up.

When they were dismissed the scrape of chairs against the floor was loud, everyone eager to get themselves and their aircrafts ready. Flying was second nature to them. Every single person in this detachment was as comfortable in the air as on the floor. You had to have a love for the skies to get so far. Chatter erupted within the group, mainly the duo’s talking to their partners. While they all filtered towards the exit Maverick spoke up once more.

“Lieutenant Lawson, a word?” Ana stopped and turned around. The others had briefly stopped too to watch her and Maverick.

“Yes, sir.” She agreed with a nod. Maverick eyed the aviators, prompting them to stop staring at them and continue filtering out. Once they left the hangar it was just the two of them. Maverick stepped up to her.

“You don’t look surprised.” Was the first thing he said to her. She smiled at that.

“How could I? I figured it out yesterday. You coming back at the same time they call the best Top Gun graduates of the last years back for a special training? Who else would they get to teach us?” It made him smile too. An earnest, flattered, if a little embarrassed smile.

“Come here.” Maverick pulled her into a hug. The one he couldn’t have yesterday at the bar when he wanted to hug her for the first time in a while. It felt good to hug her godfather again, after such a long time.

They stayed like that for a moment before Maverick sighed and pulled back. He looked at her almost remorseful and equally as serious. “You know I can’t go easy on you. I’ll have to be even stricter.”

“I know.” she nodded. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.” 

Him going easy on her would be the exact opposite of what she wanted. There was a reason she wasn’t Ana Kazansky but Ana Lawson in the Navy. Because she had wanted to make it on her own, without having it made easier thanks to her last name. Maverick smiled down at her as well, seemingly knowing what she was thinking at that moment. He knew the reason after all.

“At least I finally get to go up against you now.” She was giddy about that prospect, her fingers kept itching to go get ready and to show him. Maverick grinned at her.

“You think you can hold yourself against me?” He asked her in a playful banter, causing her to laugh.

“Of course! You’ll see, I'll show you what I am made out of.” Shaking his head Maverick looked at her with fond eyes once more, before he shooed her off with a wave. 

Watching her leave the hangar to get ready for the training Maverick kept watching her retreating form. He would have to go in a moment too.

“If you are anywhere close to your father, you’ll be doing just fine kiddo,” he mumbled to himself, thinking back on the times he and Ice flew together. He too was excited to get into the air with Ice’s legacy.

[karume-everything-else]

Whumptober 2023

Day 26: "I don't want to let you down." [Reader x Beast (Hank McCoy)] {X-Men}

Scratching your head at the papers in front of you, this was just a little more than you could handle. Filing papers was never your strong suit, but you'd promised to help your lover while he wasn't feeling good. How a common cold was this effective against a mutant was beyond you, but he was supposed to be out of office until further notice.

Though in reality, you should have been used to this. Being a substitute teacher and all. But then again, Hank taught highly advanced courses and here you sat trying to grade essays. It was a little maddening, you were deeply tempted to take these to Hank and just... let him grade these things that didn't have an answer key.

That wouldn't help anyone though, sadly. So you just had to knuckle down, keep several research tabs open, and hope for the best. Hope that you weren't just handing out random grades to people who might have actually done the work properly.

But that all faded by the time you got home. Hank was sitting on the couch, looking like he was fine but you could tell he was still very much ill. Both of you had on masks to avoid spreading the illness around the house, but that was more a precaution than anything. Hank should be out of the contagious stages by now.

"Hello sweetheart." His voice even sounded clogged, "How were the students today?"

"Decent." You felt his forehead, still fairly high fever, "Though I don't know if I graded the essays they turned in properly or not."

He leaned into your hand, the coolness of your touch was soothing, "You didn't need to do that sweetie, I could have graded them when I returned."

"But you'll have so much else to catch up on, it wasn't that bad. I just... its hard to know if they copied anything."

"I promise, it wouldn't have been too much." Hank insisted, "I can't fathom why you'd try grading papers that are more free-form than the standard tests."

"Because." You moved to help clear away the mess on the coffee table, "I don't want to let you down."

"Sweetheart, you could never." Hank tried to stand, to move to help you, but he fell back onto the couch with a soft thump, "You wouldn't be letting me down, I know you aren't well-versed in my field of study and you don't need to push yourself."

"Like you trying to get up?" You half smirked, "Hon, I just want to help, to make sure that you don't work yourself sick after catching a cold. That would not be a good look for anyone involved."

Grateful for the mask covering his blushing face, Hank looked away. Some things were just far too predictable...

[lunamaraproject]

LUNAMARA: Fragments [1]

🦢

It’s not like Felix enjoys unpleasant jobs - it just seems that it always falls to him to be the one to do them. 

Perhaps he has too much of an approachable face, so people feel comfortable with asking him to do more than others would. He would like to think it’s because he’s more capable, but he knows he isn’t. He doesn’t enjoy paperwork and slogs through it with gritted teeth. He’s much more comfortable dealing with people face to face, but knows that even in that area, some people find him too chummy and familiar for their tastes. 

Still. Unpleasant jobs must be done.

Felix takes a deep breath, and knocks on the door of the Office for Administration of Internal Affairs. It’s a name as vague as its purpose - a catch-all term for rooms full of people who pick up the pieces when things go wrong. 

“Identification,” says a tired voice from the other side, muffled by the door. It used to be that an automated responder would ask and identify him, but now they’re back to the old fashioned way. It’s funny, really.

“Case Manager Felix Cygnus,” he replies, smiling to himself. 

“Access denied,” comes the sour-sounding not-auto response.

“Awww, come on,” Felix pouts, leaning against the door forlornly. “I’ve traipsed all over Amethyst Ward today and you’re going to shut me out? Me? Your beloved Fifi?”

“You aren’t my beloved anything.”

Felix gasps. “Liar!”

Behind the door, there is a heavy sigh like all the moon's fragments have weighed themselves upon one set of stooped shoulders. Then, Felix practically falls to the floor as the door swings open, unlocked. He makes sure to sprawl himself out dramatically, including fanning his hair out in a way pleasing to the eye.

“Ow! Owwie! Owch! I think I chipped something!” he cries, writhing this way and that. “Rufie, I will sue for compensation!"

Sat behind a wide desk and nearly obscured by the sheer amount of paperwork, an impassive and unimpressed face stares down at him. Rufus Canis is young in years but with the soul of an ancient, and was already tired of Felix’s attempts to lighten the dour atmosphere of this place by hour 2 of working there. Felix fully suspects that the only reason Rufus hasn’t fired him is out of a sense of respect for a colleague he eventually came to be promoted ahead of, despite Felix having worked there since before Rufus was even born. His golden hair is cropped short for ease of care, and his dark green eyes have lost most of their shine from how long he’s spent staring at case files. There’s no glimmer to any of him, actually. He probably needs a nap. Lunamara will fall out of the sky before he ever takes one.

“Are you going to get up off my floor, or are you going to stare at me, Cygnus,” he gripes, already turning his gaze back to his work. “I’m busy. If you have enough time to play around, I have errands for you to run.”

“Ehh, but I just got back!” Felix whines, though he does get (gracefully) to his feet. 

This, too, is ignored. “Is Amethyst fully closed up yet?” 

“Ah, mmm…” The hesitation is answer enough.

“Those selfish bastards,” Rufus mutters under his breath. “The more districts and wards we have to keep open and supplied, the worse off the essential services are. Can’t even afford to run power to my intercom…”

“I’m working on it, Rufus, I promise,” Felix assures him, placing four more case folders on his in-tray. With how full it is, one would think he wouldn’t be keen for more. “They just need some time to come to terms with it. Find the right people to settle with.”

“If they don’t hurry it up I’ll put them to work myself or throw them off this stupid rock.”

Felix can’t help but smile at him. Rufus would, of course, never resort to such a thing. He’s all bark and no bite, like those adorable animals from down below. Dogs, that’s it. Still, it won’t do to tease a creature with teeth. 

“What else can I assist you with today?”

Rufus reaches to the left and picks up a folder with several colourful tabs sticking out of it. “I need you to run this report to Her Royal Highness for her perusal and approval.”

“Poor Elsie,” Felix pouts, taking the folder - and nearly dropping it, now that it’s become so dense and heavy. “She might start crying again if she sees this.”

“Every day I wonder how you haven’t been arrested for treason, Cygnus,” Rufus mutters. “Princess Elsennae is perfectly capable. She’s only 20 years younger than me.”

“Aww, Rufie, that means you could have a chance! Think of it like an office romance–”

“OUT.”

Felix makes quick on his escape with the folder, before Rufus really does start throwing something at him. The banter has cheered him up though, enough that the long walk from the offices to the palace’s main halls doesn’t seem quite so daunting. 

There was a time when this information would be transferred over connected terminals, rather than on foot by one particularly good looking Case Manager, but such frivolous uses of power are long since past. He steps over another chunk of stone and makes note of the gap in the archway that it came from - nobody will do anything to fix it, at this point, he knows, but he’d like not to get hit on the head if he can avoid it. At least the lights work. It really would be something desperate if even the palace couldn’t keep the lights on. 

Not that they aren’t in rather dire straits already.

🌗

More from LUNAMARA:

Fragments [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6]<-- More every Thursday!

Comic [Prologue]

Art by Luka (http://nousanti.tumblr.com/) Story by Pidge (http://pidgestories.tumblr.com/)

[netherworldpost]

Hi Atty! First, thank you for being a source of spooky, otherworldly joy in the world and on tumblr. Secondly, a while back (possibly quite a while back) you shared a link to some starting-a-small-business resources that (I think) you made. It was possibly a google doc? I had the link open in a tab for a very long time, but now that I’m about to finally start starting my own colorful business, I seem to have lost that particular tab, and tumblr’s search function is…well…it’s tumblr’s search function, and therefore less than functional. Am I correct in that recollection and/or what advice do you have for someone who has never done anything like this? I’m excited, but also a bit worried!

I cannot locate the document either, I'm afraid. I've been in multiple arguments discussions arguments (is correct) over the last several months as I've ventured into "Hey I have thoughts, maybe they are useful!" so I might have deleted it.

I can sum some basics up

Keep your costs low, especially as you start out. You have to build an audience and this takes time (that's the bad news). Once you build an audience your audience helps you build a larger audience (that's the good news). The tipping points of scale are invisible and you won't know you've reached them until you're past. Just keep going.

If you aren't making a profit consistently, this is a hobby. There is no moral difference between a hobby and a business. It boils down to "am I making money on this, or am I spending money on this."

If running the thing makes you more You than not running it, keep going, even if it costs you money -- but, doubly so here, keep the costs to an enjoyable limit.

The point I want to express is a lot of people start a weird business, it costs them a small fortune because they attempt to spend their way to success, it collapses under the weight of said costs, and they feel a failure.

Unless money is no object (because of financial resources external to the business or you are creating something that does not have a production cost), failure fundamentally does not exist.

Making money is hard. The more you make, the harder it is to make more, so keep all of this in mind when you're designing your labor systems. "I can put a card in an envelope" is easy. "I can put 100 cards in 100 envelopes" is more than 100x harder.

This is not to dissuade you, it is to prepare a bed of moss for when the honeymoon cloud ends.

Focus, tightly, why you're doing this.

If you want more money, a second job is going to give you more for less hours of work. If you want the world to be different, this is a great way to do it.

If you want both -- if you want this to be a solid source (if not your main source) of income -- that's great. I cannot stress this enough: prepare for the long haul. Decades -- not years, decades. I started in the mid 90s. I got successful in the mid 2010s.

The best news is you don't have to make that decision permanently, you can decide every day to do what you want, it's your shop.

When you get a lucky break and you think "did I deserve this lucky break" put that thought to bed. It doesn't matter.

When you get an unlucky break and you think "should I have done something different to prevent this" put that thought to bed. It doesn't matter.

Your main competition is going to be people you post your things without crediting you -- 99/100 times without malice. Your competition is not the people who make similar things as you.

Once you reach a threshold, "giant corporations who steal from you" can be added to that list.

The point: worrying about another independent creator's work is not useful energy. Unless they are directly stealing from you, just keep going.

This is a difficult set of tasks. Keep going. Every problem you have will have an industry built to solve it -- not a singular vendor, an entire industry. Find who you are comfortable with and can afford.

When you want to do ABC and you can't afford it, reduce scope. If you can't afford Extra Fancy Packaging then use something cheaper. If you can't afford Extra Fancy Project Production then reduce the fanciness.

If it drives up the retail price out of what your customers will pay, if it takes too long to assemble and put into an envelope to ship, if it's too complicated to handle efficiently -- reduce scope.

Listen to me very carefully. Get uncomfortably close to ensure you understand this.

This is not cheating.

This is business. This is how business works. You continuously measure "what is possible vs. what is sale-able vs. what is profitable." and then go with the center of this diagram.

If you don't want to reduce scope, if you want costs-be-damned-I-want-what-I-want: treat this as a hobby. That's fine. See above points.

I cannot begin to explain how many books I have built that were Massively God Damn Complicated Oh God Why WHY and the why was "so it exists in the world." That has been my hobby-stuff.

I cannot begin to explain how many books I have built that were "hm, I shall streamline this, I shall enjoy it, my audience will enjoy it." This is business-stuff.

Sometimes I'll take a business-stuff thing and make a single special edition with water color or gold leaf or a special box etc. as a gift or just to keep. That's a blend. Acceptable.

Do not work for exposure.

Do not work for a large company that says "we'll give you so many business contacts if you just give us one for free."

Do not give free stuff to a social media influencer for a shout out on their channel.

The validity of these strategies is irrelevant until you have enough cash on hand and experience and an audience big enough to build an advertising campaign. If you cannot afford an advertising campaign, then you're in the realm of "reduce scope."

Your logo set in Arial in a single color with default font settings is going to last until you can comfortably say "I want more" and then build more or hire someone to build more.

Your website in a free Shopify or Big Cartel (etc) theme) is going to last you until you can comfortably say "I want more" and then build more or hire someone to build more or buy a template.

Last point.

Your brand is "I make X, it is of Y quality, it is available at Z-location" is 99% of branding.

You get to do this. You are doing this on purpose. You are doing this for a reason.

For a very long time, your profit levels will be less than the interest a high yield interest savings account would offer you for your investment cash. That is to say you could be making more money with 0 effort than you are with A Significant Amount of Effort.

I am talking about money a lot because it is the connection that links all businesses together.

This is your shop. Own it. Keep in mind, "This is my shop. I run it how i want."

If you are running out of resources, reduce scope. If it's not fun, reduce it to a hobby. If you're scared, reduce consequences of things not working out quickly. If people laugh or deride your work, block them.

I love business. I love the weird, complicated problems it brings. It gives me a focus. I love coming to the office and bothering my best friend with my intense nonsense that somehow puts food on tables and roofs over heads.

My life would be so much more straight forward if I just made art and either put it into the world or held onto it in private. I would be making so much more art in if I went down this path.

But running a shop, running a business, makes me more me. The shop and the art are not two halves of a singular piece, they wound together on a molecular level.

As long as that exists in my core, I'll be making a business. If it ever does not, I'll make it a hobby.

Don't measure penalties or lost opportunities.

Measure wins, big and small, of things that went well because you're smart and capable, or your lucky and smart, or your lucky and capable, or you royally fucked up but it worked out anyway, or you learned a lesson because of a past failure, etc.

This isn't a competition. It's a thing that makes you You more You than if you weren't doing it, so you are, to the best of your ability + the limit of your desire.

[tiffyfoundsomething]

I haven’t been excited by a new toy in a while, but MGA’s new Miniverse got my attention.

These are available everywhere, including Amazon: https://amzn.to/3GGeEIt

However, that’s not always a good thing. It’s not always a positive aspect of a toy that catches my eye.

The big “what???” of these is that they’re marketed to kids age 8 and up, and contain UV resin.

Now..... Resin is

well it’s

...

It’s not for kids.

Allergies to uncured resin are common (both 2-part epoxy and UV resins) and can be severe.

There are lots of warnings in the packaging. I didn’t read them.

You should wear gloves and a respirator when working with any resin, even in a well ventilated area. There aren’t many proper respirators that fit kids....

Froggy on YouTube was too afraid to open her resin and instead used tinted Mod Podge which worked just as well.

I, however, am old and experienced with both types of resin (though no expert), unafraid of the possible reaction I could endure (I’m familiar with resin allergy and how it can be, so a good test subject) so I figured I’d give these a look to see just how bad an idea they might be for kids.

I did NOT wear gloves or a respirator while working on these kits in the name of science.

My first order was 3x of the Diner balls (there are 3x of the Cafe ones on the way).

I wanted a blueberry cheesecake.

None of my three were any type of cheesecake. I got this strawberry and cake parfait, choco-hazelnut spread and strawberry toast, and key lime pie.

First warning on this one:  When I opened the little plastic bag that contained the “vanilla cream”, it smelled of UV resin and left my finger sticky. Some resin must have gotten on the outside of the bottle before it was bagged. It did make me itch at the time, which I was like “oh no....” but I’ll get back to that. One of the other balls had the same experience, but not all three.

The positives:  Wow this is cute. There are screened veins on the strawberries, the whole berries have painted leaves, and the cake cubes are textured. These are very nice little minis, if a little under-detailed and obviously plastic.

Excellent for doll houses.

Every tiny bottle of resin has a big DO NOT EAT THIS sticker on it with information if you peel it off and unfold it.

The negatives:  resin

You get tools, but they’re insufficient. I’ll address that later, also.

The little fruit and cake packages are difficult to open and I tossed my cake cubes across the desk. I am clumsy.

The resin bottle is VERY difficult to open. While this is good to prevent leaks (presumably), it did result in me and various tools being covered in resin trying to get it open.

Most of these items are a good scale for 1/6th dolls (Mini Me is a Live Action Beauty and the Beast Belle head on a curvy Barbie body). That bread is kind of big, those are bulk peanut butter, and that’s a LOT of vanilla cream.

Speaking of the bread...

I am NEVER opening this. Never. It’s too cute as it is. There is a TINY. BREAD. TAB.

Never.

That freed up one kit’s stuff to mix with the others.

These limes are transparent like they’ve been baked.

The whipped cream tube opens and there are all of these dollops inside, but I’m not the only one that thought they looked like little garlic! With a little toasty-colored dry brushing they could also be meringues.

Anyway, this was my “I’ve done this before.” set up. I didn’t tape down my tape (that’s a vinyl flooring sample, it’s an excellent base for working on UV resin), but it was fine for this small project.

I like to work on baby wipes because the damp, rough texture stops things from rolling or sliding around (it’s especially handy if you’re playing with glitter) and I keep another on hand to wipe my tools or my fingers as needed with the container nearby because I do go through a lot of wipes. Negative to baby wipes is that they’re prone to dropping strings everywhere.

Back to the tools.

You don’t want to touch uncured resin. The tools that come with these kits are playscale. Imagine trying to dig the key lime pie goo out of this jar with that tiny knife (though that set comes with a spoon). You’re going to be covered in resin.

There’s only about 1/3 of the jar full.

I used my normal resin doing spoon which is long and still had to stop to wipe my fingers a few times because I am clumsy.

The same with the tweezers.

These longer ones are much safer.

Each of these three kits has a different texture of resin. This is the “Nutella” which is thick and spreadable. I was using it as chocolate sauce since I didn’t want to use the bread. The vanilla cream was runny, and the key lime pie goo was in the middle.

I was doing this at 5 am in the winter so there was no sun. I used my nail lamp, so I can’t say whether these would set properly in the sun.

Having experience with UV resin, I did the key lime pie in two layers, curing the lower layer of just lime goo first so that the pieces wouldn’t get pushed too deep into said goo, then adding a second, thinner layer to set the fruit into.

I got this all over myself even with my longer, more appropriate tools.

Because the deco is plastic you can’t hit the resin with a flame to get rid of bubbles. Sometimes you can get them to pop if you blow on it hard and fast (POOF!) but I didn’t bother.

Obviously I switched mine up and made a strawberry limeade pie instead, using some of the Nutella to make a chocolate dipped strawberry on top.

As for the parfait, I am disappointed that the cake cubes on the bottom are obscured by the resin. It is very runny, ran down and around and covered them right up.

I also did this one in layers. I was wondering if the white resin would be able to cure because sometimes opaque tinted UV resin, especially white, can’t cure and you end up with a thin, cured crust and then that can be easily broken and uncured resin comes out everywhere.

This white resin cured fine. It’s not opaque.

I’m wishing I’d skipped the whipped cream on the parfait because the bright white of the whipped cream makes the transparency of the vanilla cream resin more obvious.

And this is what I’m left with!

If I hadn’t put the big strawberry on the key lime pie, it all would have fit into the pie crust container.

I cured the mostly empty insides of the vanilla cream and key lime goo containers but not the Nutella because I might come back and use that some day.

Whipped cream bits are back into the can.

I didn’t want to have empty fruit packaging so I pulled out some polyclay canes and refilled them.

Final thoughts

If you were to do these kits as intended, you’d be throwing away most of them. There was a TON of plastic bags inside, three layers of plastic outside, the pie crust and fruit containers and resin bottles/jars would be empty, there are many, many papers inside telling how to use the resin and warnings and the checklist and MGA’s usual “Give us your toy ideas for free!” flyer they include in everything these days.

I didn’t put them in the pictures but each kit does come with a small table that can snap into the ball to use as a dust-free display, and a doily or place mat depending on what you’re making.

I DID get resin all over my fingers. The resin DOES smell, but not as strong as my usual UV resin and it doesn’t sting my nose like my usual UV resin. If I were allergic, I’d be in pretty bad shape right now. As it is, I just feel kind of gross even though I’ve gotten as much off of my hands as I can.

Washing your hands won’t get this off, you need rubbing alcohol, which is where baby wipes come in handy.

Are these for kids 8+?

no

I mean, it depends on the kid. I’ve seen kids that can outcook adults.

Giving this to me at that age or even as a teen would be a mistake. It would end up in my hair, up my nose, on the dog, in my mom’s purse somehow.... I am clumsy.

It depends on the kid, but in general, no. There are very few respirators that properly fit children.

This is for teens and adults who already know how to handle UV resin.

[actualbird]

just curious and also just sharing the silly little thing my brain has done and has assumed is normal but now im wondering if it's not as common as i thought: any other long-time tot players have the hardest time remembering the simple rock-paper-scissors strengths of Card attributes?

this thing?

for those who also had/have a very difficult time remembering: you and i are cut from the same cloth, i Understand

for those who had no problem at all because "zak, it's three things??? how can you remember the exact cards where certain luke quotes happen but not remember these Three Things?" i dont know either, i wish i knew why my brain is terminally silly

been playing tot since july of 2021, ever since the global release, and up til like last month, i still could not remember this thing from memory, which made it mildly annoying cuz it only shows before debate and during debate but NOT when ur picking out decks and cuz i didnt wanna keep pressing Back to check the boss attribute (bc if i did, i would forget by the time i clicked the debate and went to deck choosing bit) i kept having to search up the miraheze wiki for tot cards just to remember and every time im like How Did I Not Remember This, It's Three Things

(for context, i also had immense trouble remembering simple science formulas also containing only Three Things like distance-speed-velocity and acceleration-velocity-time back in high school yet i had no trouble memorizing ALL the countries of europe in alphabetical order. i also regularly have trouble remembering which is left and which is right, which is even worse because thats only TWO THINGS, yet have no problem whatsoever remembering the binomial names of several birds)

i finally found a little way to remember them tho! im not good with arbitrary recognition cuz they dont have any particular meaning or rules (because listen, just thinking about "Logic beats Empathy, Empathy beats Intuition, and Intuition beats Logic" isnt naturally intuitive at All for me), so i finally did the smart thing and just....gave them meanings and rules in a way that pleases my brain:

fruit

behold, how ive remembered the tears of themis card attributes after 1+ year of being an idiot constantly checking the wiki to remember Three Things: The Clockwise Strawberry Blueberry Triangle

strawberry points up because a strawberry cant stand on its pointy part. the green this is always in the bottom, because thats where the green naturally comes out. but the strawberry is at an angle, because it's got a blueberry friend to prop it up at the lower left corner. order of strengths is clockwise, because the point of the strawberry is Obviously the most powerful since it is highest up in the triangle and i can just work my way up through the rest from there. assign all the attributes back onto this fruit triangle corresponding to their color, and voila!

i dont know why i wrote up this post at 6am, but it seemed like a fun idea at the time. additionally, the fruits have succesfully solved my conundrum and now i can remember attributes like no fuckin problem, and have thusly said goodbye to the miraheze card tab ive had open for months that lived rent free on my laptop.

you can rest now, dear tab. youve served me well. but now i have a silly little triangle of fruits